Dennis used a sharp-bitted drill carefully to cut a small circular hole out of the center of each disk.
“Come on, Arth,” he said when he had finished. “Help me with this, will you?”
Under Dennis’s direction, the bandit leader lifted one of the poles penetrating the sides of the trough. Dennis slid one of his disks over the end, then removed it to trim the center hole a little wider. When he tried again, it wedged into place a few inches down the shaft. He pounded it farther with a cloth-muffled hammer.
Arth lowered the tub. It lay canted at an odd angle, propped up at one corner by the upended disk. Linnora put down her work and edged forward on the hay to watch.
“What is it, Dennis?” she asked.
“It’s called a wheel,” he replied. “With four of these in place and with the help of Surah’s donkey, we should be able to carry you out of here tomorrow night almost as fast as if you could walk. Of course, it’ll force us to use the roads at first, but there’s no helping that. The road’s the only way over the pass, anyway.”
Dennis directed Arth to lift one corner at a time. He pounded a wheel onto each.
“This whole device is called a cart. Back in my homeland, this crude thing wouldn’t last more than a few hours, at best. I imagine at first it’ll scrape along little better than if we were dragging the trough on its belly. There’s no bearing between the axles and the holes in the body, for one thing. That’ll play hell with the rolling friction coefficient. Of course, with practice we can expect a lubrication effect to come into play eventually…”
Arth and Linnora glanced at each other. The wizard was getting opaque again. They had grown used to it by now.
“I could’ve made a better starter,” Dennis said as he drove the last wheel firmly into place. “But there’s no time. Right now they’re ranging all over the countryside looking for us, but once the sniffers find our trail, they’ll concentrate. We’d better be well into the mountains by that time.
“We’re going to have to count on the Practice Effect to fix this wagon up. Tonight Arth and I will take turns pulling it around the farmyard. By tomorrow maybe…”
Dennis stepped back and looked at the cart. He saw bewilderment on Arth’s face. But Linnora wore an expression of deep concentration. Her eyes were narrowed and she moved her hand as if trying to visualize something she had never seen before.
Suddenly she clapped her hands and laughed out loud.
“Push it! Oh, Dennis, push it and make it move!”
Dennis grinned. Linnora did not have the mind of a caveman. Her ability to envision the way things worked was just short of amazing, considering her background.
He lifted his foot and gave the back of the cart a shove.
Groaning loudly, it rattled and rolled down the gravel path and out the barn doorway.
Someone shrieked, and there was a loud thump outside. Dennis hurried out and found Surah Sigel seated on the ground, staring wide-eyed at the contraption. It had rolled to a stop a few feet away. Beside her a cloth bag of provisions lay open, its contents half scattered.
“I thought it was alive when it came out at me like that!” She blinked at the cart.
“It’s just a machine,” Dennis reassured her as he helped her up. “It’s what we’re going to use to carry the Princess…”
“I can see that!” Surah brushed his hands away and straightened her clothes stiffly. She started gathering the provisions— dried meats, fruit, and sacks of cornmeal—and shooed Dennis away when he tried to help.
“Tomosh just came back with word from my cousins down the road,” she said. “They’ve been quartering four of the Baron’s troopers for a week. And now the soldiers are saying they’re going to move out the day after tomorrow. They won’t say where, but my cousin thinks its westward.”
Dennis cursed softly. He and the others had to be through the pass before the troops entered the mountains. If they waited until tomorrow night they would still be on the road when the main force reached the gap!
“Tonight, then,” he said. “We’ve got to go tonight.”
Tomosh came running out of the house. He stopped and stared at the little wagon.
Arth supported Linnora as she hobbled over to take her seat in the cart. She laughed as Arth and the boy pushed it slowly about the farmyard.
Dennis shook his head. The little red wagon I had as a child would be more useful, he thought, than that creaky thing will be on its first da.
They started out soon after nightfall, while the moons were still down. The donkey snorted uncomfortably as it pulled the rickety cart. When it stopped at the gate and threatened to balk, Linnora strummed her klasmodion and sang to the restive animal.
The donkey’s ears moved, its breathing slowly settled as the girl’s melody calmed it. Finally, it responded to Arth’s gentle tugs and pulled at its awkward burden. Dennis helped push until they were out onto the road proper. There they stopped to bid the Sigels farewell.
Linnora whispered to Tomosh while Dennis shook hands with Mrs. Sigel.
“Good luck to y’all,” Surah said. “Tell Stivyung we’re fine if you see him.” Surah looked at the motley party dubiously. Dennis had to admit that they didn’t look like much of a force to take on Kremer’s patrols.
“We’ll do that,” Dennis said, nodding.
“You’ll be back ag’in, Dennizz!” Tomosh promised as he whacked the Earthman on the thigh affectionately. “You ’n my pop an’ the Royal Scouts’ll come back an’ fix old Kremer once and for all!”
Dennis tousled the boy’s hair. “Maybe so, Tomosh.”
Arth clucked to the donkey. The crude cart squeaked up the dark, sloping road. Dennis had to push for an uphill stretch. When he looked back, Surah and her son were gone.
Except for the narrow, mirror-focused beam of their small oil lantern, the night was black all around them. The wind brushed through the trees lining the highway. Even on the smooth, superresilient highway, the cart thumped and bumped and shook. Linnora bore it bravely. She plucked her klasmodion softly, with a dreamy, distant expression on her face.
She was already hard at work, using her L’Toff talents to help the cart practice.
On Earth the rickety contraption could be expected to fall apart anytime from a few minutes to a few hours after construction. Here, though, it was a race between wear and practice. If only it lasted long enough, the thing would get better. Maybe.
Dennis pushed the noisy cart, wishing the pixolet was around to help.
4
Murris Demsen, commander of the Green Lion company of the Royal Scouts, poured another cup of winter wine for Prince Linsee, then looked to see if anyone else wanted a refill.
The boy from Zuslik, young Gath, nodded and grinned. The winter wine of the L’Toff was about the best thing he had ever tasted. He was already well on his way toward getting tipsy.
Stivyung Sigel held his hand over his goblet. He knew the potency of the stuff from his days in the Scouts.
“The latest word is that Kremer’s patrols have been applying pressure all along the border,” Demsen said. The gangly scout commander put down the beautiful, ancient decanter and pulled a sheaf of notes from a folder. “There are also reports that the baronies of Tarlee and Trabool are mobilizing, and setting up outposts in L’Toff territory. Even Baron Feif-dei appears to be getting ready for war”
“That is indeed bad news,” Prince Linsee said. “I had counted him a friend.”
Stivyung Sigel stood slowly. He bowed to Prince Linsee, to Demsen, and to Linsee’s son, the brown-haired Prince Proll.